


the burning of icarus

by axeidentall



Series: the burning of icarus [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, TOMMY IS GONE CRABRAVE, Tommy's Recent Lore Stream, but i think not, i really missed wilbur soot, maybe i will expand on this someday, think of it as a writing drabble, very short oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:41:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29787969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axeidentall/pseuds/axeidentall
Summary: tommy finds wilbur in the afterlife.
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Tommyinnit & Wilbur Soot, Wilbut Soot & TommyInnit
Series: the burning of icarus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189835
Comments: 14
Kudos: 145





	the burning of icarus

**Author's Note:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDAL MENTIONS. NOTHING GRAPHIC AND ITS ONLY MENTIONED TWICE BUT PLEASE BE CAREFUL**  
> also spoilers for tommy's most recent stream! i basically speedran this because the angst content was too powerful.
> 
> very short oneshot i did. basically a drabble. have fun with this

Wisteria-colored water drips from the crying obsidian above. It lands on Tommy's cheeks and slowly falls down, landing at his feet with a quiet _plip_. He blinks, and his eyes refocus. The water is not from the crying obsidian, but rather tears from a man in a brown trenchcoat. 

_"What are you doing here?_ " Wilbur Soot asks quietly, one hand behind Tommy's head and the other clutching his hand. Tommy distantly realizes that Wilbur's hand is solid and warm, unlike the cold and intangible skin of Ghostbur.

Tommy shrugs from his spot on Wilbur's lap. He hasn't felt so peaceful in a long time. Since exile, there had always been some nagging voice in the back of his mind. It reminded him how warm and soothing the lava around him would be if he jumped, how relaxing the chill water would feel if it filled up his lungs. It whispered to him in the prison, telling him how _easy_ it would be to simply leave the confines of the obsidian walls by walking through the lava. Now it's different. He's at peace.

"Hey, Wil," Tommy answers at last. It's all he can think of to say. He squeezes Wilbur's hand gently.

"It was supposed to be me," Wilbur whispers, "only me." His hazel eyes are glistening, holding none of the serenity that Tommy thought deceased people had in heaven.

Tommy buries himself closer into Wilbur's trenchcoat. It smells like gunpowder. "'M sorry."

"No." Wilbur cradles his little brother in his arms. "Never be sorry."

They sit like that for a long time. Tommy doesn't know for how long, whether it was for mere minutes or days. The endless space of white around him is calming. He squeezes Wilbur's hand again as the tears on his face slowly begin to dry. He hums Mellohi's simple tune, reminding himself of simpler times.

Somewhere, he hears the anguished cry of a warrior, pink hair falling down the sides of his face as he reads the line that spells out his last brother's death message. 


End file.
